Dakota Love (59 page)

Guilt crept back in to take root in her heart.

“Lil, tell me what’s wrong.”

She looked into his eyes one last time, memorizing the color, the spark of life, the love.

“I can’t.”

S
he didn’t tell Walt either. He’d tried to coax it out of her while she packed up her sewing machine and quilt blocks. But that just escalated their anger, resulting in another argument.

He’d watched her scurry across the driveway, wondering when he’d see her again.

That was three days ago. Other than to catch a glimpse of her shadow passing a window, he hadn’t seen or spoken to Lil. She’d even turned the walkie-talkie off.

Walt pressed a button on the remote, blackening the television screen. He had no idea what the weatherman had said. It had been on for background noise. Something to fill in the silence, distract his mind.

It hadn’t worked. His anger had long since dissipated, replaced with missing Lil. What could have happened that was so bad she couldn’t put a voice to it? There was no way it could be worse than the mistake he’d made in Nam.

A delivery driver walked past the picture window in the living room. Walt pushed down on the heavily padded arms of his easy chair and stood.

He walked into the hotel lobby and opened the door, greeted by frosty air, dry and void of moisture.

“Good morning. Got a package for you.”

Walt took the electronic device and scribbled his name across the flat screen.

“Weatherman says it’s going to be a nice day.”

“Is that right? I missed the weather report this morning.” Walt traded the tracking device for the package.

“High of fifty-five. Not bad for early November.”

Walt smiled. “Not bad at all. What do you think the temp is now?” An idea brewed in his mind.

“Thirty-nine, maybe. Above freezing for sure. Have a great day.”

“Thanks.” Walt closed the door. He read the return address label before setting the box on the check-in counter. He’d deal with the package later. Right now, though, if the mountain wouldn’t come to him, he’d go after the mountain.

Walt pictured himself marching across the driveway, banging on Lil’s door, and taking her in his arms. Instead he grabbed his walker for extra stability and took careful steps to ensure his safety.

He did bang on her door though.

The corner of the curtain moved before Lil threw open the door. “Is something wrong?”

“I’ll say it is.”

“What is it?”

“The woman I love is trying to close me out and I won’t stand for it.”

Lil’s eyes grew wide. She adjusted the slick jacket of her navy jogging suit and stepped back into her camper.

“Are you going to invite me in, or do I have to stand out here in the cold? Because I’m not leaving until you talk to me.” Walt reached a hand up and grabbed the doorframe.

“Just a minute.” Lil stepped closer. “Put your good leg on the step first.” Lil shouldered herself under his other arm as soon as his foot hit the step. With little effort on his part, he stood in Lil’s camper.

Once inside he could see all of Lil’s living space. The light paneling and open floor plan made the living space appear bigger, roomier.

Just past the kitchenette there was a short hall with two doors, one on each side. The closed one, he assumed, was the bathroom, the sliding door a closet.

Straight in his line of vision was the bedroom. Lil had left the door open, the lilac quilt from her grandmother covering the bed.

A wayward corn husk whisked past the window. Walt spotted the walkie-talkie and nodded toward it. “The battery die?”

A sheepish look settled on Lil’s face. “No, I turned it off.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I figured you didn’t want to talk to me.”

Walt stepped farther into the room toward Lil. His overalls leg brushed against an overstuffed chair.

“I think you have that turned around. You don’t seem to want to talk to me.”

Lil pushed past her counter and stepped into her kitchenette, busying herself at the sink. But from what Walt could tell, she was doing nothing—no water ran, no dishes sat, the sink looked clean.

“Aren’t you mad at me?”

“I was. Never could tolerate a liar.” Walt shrugged, though Lil stood with her back to him.

“But I didn’t…” Lil’s head snapped up. Spinning around, she glared at Walt.

“Yes, you did, Lil. I’d have rather heard about your protest days and disrespect to soldiers from your lips than Sandy’s.”

“Right, knowing how Nancy treated you…” Lil’s voice trailed off and a vacancy clouded her green eyes.

“That was years ago, and although her rejection and disgusting accusations hurt, at least she was being honest with her feelings. Something you aren’t even doing now.”

Walt’s anger returned, pushing the ache of missing Lil aside.

“I had you pegged all wrong. You’re no different than Nancy.” Walt pointed a finger at Lil. Had she been closer, he might have poked her with it or knocked the chip off of her shoulder.

“Somehow you came to the conclusion I was a different person than I was,
am
.” Lil flexed her fingers rapidly before fisting her hands.

The heat of Walt’s anger dropped from a boil to a simmer. She was right. He did assume they shared the same political viewpoints.

She lifted her fists to her hips. “I never said that I was different than Nancy.”

“That’s the problem, Lil; you never said anything.” What could he do or say to get this stubborn woman to talk about what was standing between them, their love, their future? Being a protestor might be part of it, but it wasn’t all of it.

Lil turned and stared out a sliver of a window. Silence encompassed the room.

A frustrated growl rumbled low in Walt’s throat. He turned to leave; then he saw it.

“You finished the quilt?” He walked over to the couch and lifted a corner of the Rose of Sharon quilt.

“Just the top.”

Lil pulled the fabric from the back of the sofa. Holding two corners, she lifted her arms high and held the completed work of art like a stage curtain.

“It’s beautiful.” Just like Lil was.
“How beautiful you are, my darling! Oh, how beautiful!”
He’d always liked the Song of Songs but never fully understood the meaning of the verses until now.

“Thank you. And thank you for helping me make it.” Lil folded the quilt top with the patterned blocks out. “I know it’s not your definition of manly, but it sure helped me move along with my project. I figured the least I could do is finish it so you could see it before I left.”

A pang of loneliness shot through Walt, the force so strong it threatened his balance. He grasped hold of the corner of the wall. The small ache of missing Lil for a few days magnified with the knowledge that she’d be leaving for good.

“Lil, don’t go. Stay here. You know how I feel.”

Her eyes swam with regret when she met his gaze. “I can’t. I’m not the person you think I am. I’ll just disappoint you. I’ve already disappointed you.”

Steady now, Walt stepped toward Lil, removing the folded quilt from her hands, resting it on the couch. “Lil, we’re not getting any younger. The last five weeks have been the happiest of my life. Even when I found you exasperating, you still made me feel alive and vital.”

The corners of Lil’s mouth trembled, threatening a grin. “I could say the same about you.”

“I know.” Walt nodded and squeezed her hands. “Lil, I love you. I want you to stay. To be my wife. To make a life with me.”

Walt tugged Lil close, and for a few moments her warmth seeped into him, easing his pain.

Then she pushed away. “I do love you, Walt. And I’ve daydreamed like a silly schoolgirl of what it’d be like to be your wife. But my past mistakes won’t let me go. I’ve filed your case report. I’ve received my dismissal paperwork. I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”

Walt sucked in his upper lip. He’d experienced pain, but none as extreme as Lil’s piercing words. He turned and went to the door.

“Do you need my help?”

He snorted and turned around. “No, I need
you
, Lil. Why do you have to leave? Is someone waiting for you in Texas?”

Her eyes widened, obviously shocked by the firmness in his accusation. “No.”

“Then tell me what you’re running from. You keep saying your past. You were a war protestor. Big deal. Lots of people were. It was a turbulent time. I’m pretty sure that they moved forward in their lives though.” His broken heart was controlling his mouth and setting his course as he turned and closed the distance he’d just put between them.

“Tell me, Lil, what on earth did you do that was so bad you can’t say it out loud to the man who loves you?”

Walt placed his hands on her shoulders and bent his head so that, with her tipped-head stance, he could look her in the eye. “I told you the horrible thing I did to get a man killed. Your story can’t be that bad.”

Her lashes fluttered but she didn’t close her eyes. Deep creases furrowed her forehead and she frowned. “It is that bad, Walt, because it’s the same. I killed a man.”

Lil grabbed Walt’s upper arms to steady him when he wobbled at her admission. His face paled at the same time his expression went blank.

“Let’s sit down.”

With a small shake of his head, Walt recovered, straightening to his full height. He ran his hand down her arm. Delightful warmth trailed behind it. His fingers found then clasped hers and he led her two steps to the couch.

“It’s not at all what you thought, is it?” With her free hand Lil rubbed the slick fabric that covered her thigh, but didn’t attempt to stop the nervous bouncing of her legs.

This was hard. But Walt deserved to know why she couldn’t stay and be his wife. She could love him. Would love him for the rest of her life even though she couldn’t stay and be his wife.

Of course, once he learned the truth, he wouldn’t want her to be his wife.

Walt rubbed his forehead. Confusion danced through his eyes. “Did you kill someone at a protest?”

“Heavens, no! I didn’t really kill him, but my past did.”

His face contorted as he tried to understand what she was telling him.

How could Walt make sense of it all when she didn’t understand her own words?

“Let me start from the beginning. In college, my roommate and I became very political and participated in or organized many protests.”

“I understand that part.”

“After I graduated, I was sent to a veterans hospital, of all places, for my student nursing. So here I was, a protestor in a veterans hospital and one of my patients was an injured…”

“Vietnam vet?” Walt pulled his lips to the side and gave his head a shake.

“Yes. He’d been hurt when someone stepped on a land mine. They amputated his leg overseas but put him in the hospital for other injuries. He was young and handsome.”

Lil allowed her heart to remember and revel in that shiny, happy first-love joy. She sighed and smiled.

“You fell in love.” Walt touched his palm to her cheek and she leaned into his warmth.

“We did. The seasoned nurses warned me that a lot of soldiers coming home fell in love with their nurses, but…” Lil shrugged. “I knew our love was different. What did
old
people know about love anyway?”

Walt chuckled at the face she pulled.

She moved his hand from her cheek, laid it on his thigh, and patted it before she laced her fingers in her lap. What came next was hard, and she didn’t need the distraction of Walt’s touch.

“He had nightmares.” Her knowing eyes looked at Walt.

“It’s a sad fact, but most of us do.”

Lil pressed her fingers together hard, reddening her knuckles.

“His weren’t about the enemy or the gunfire or the battles. They were about what he’d seen soldiers do when they cracked under pressure or fear.”

Sympathy moisture filled her eyes when she saw Walt’s watery eyes.

“That’s when I realized how wrong I was to protest the soldiers. I had no idea what they’d been through, seen, heard. I had no idea how haunting and disturbing it was. I had no idea how the names I called them piled additional guilt on their heads like burning coals.”

Silence overtook the room, the only communication between Lil and Walt their gaze, which neither of them broke. Though moisture brimmed in Walt’s eyes, his love for her still shone through.

Larry’s hate was easier to deal with. Walt’s unconditional love unnerved her because she didn’t deserve it. Lil shifted a little on the sofa cushion.

Walt reached for her but she leaned away like a wary kitten from a helping hand.

“As days turned to months, we found that we had so much in common that we couldn’t help but fall in love. After several surgeries, Larry was healing. His prognosis looked promising and he proposed.”

A single tear trickled down Lil’s cheek as Larry’s hospital-bed proposal played through her memory. “I accepted.” She swiped the tear away. “But then I felt we needed to be honest with each other.”

She raised her eyebrows and lifted her shoulders in a long, sad shrug. “That’s where it all went wrong.”

“Lil…”

Walt shifted and reached his arms out to her. She wanted nothing more than to fall into them, feel their comfort, draw strength from them, but she’d given in to that impulse one too many times with Walt.